Read Collected Fictions Online
Authors: Gordon Lish
IT WAS THE NOTES
I was getting. I was getting these notes. I was developing this terrific collection of really great notes. Normally the thing of it with me is I just go ahead. I get a title and I just go ahead. But this was a case where there were all of these great notes I was developing and where they just kept on accumulating on me and accumulating, is the only way for anybody with any intelligence to put it. The other thing is a title, the title. Didn't have one, couldn't get one. Nothing. Then out of the blue I hear myself saying to myself wait a minute, wait a minute, under a pediment, how about under a pediment? Except first I had to go over to the museum and ask one of the people. They have these guards over there. These attendants, personnel in uniform. So there's this one of them who says to me yeah, that's right, pediment, the name of it you call it is a pediment. So this is when I had the whole thing. I was all set when I had this last part of the thing, which, considering my history, my history considered, is for me the same as the staples of the thing—i.e., a title; viz., a title, get a title, then go ahead and write your head off now that you have got it, the title. But so who ever had any notes before? I never had any notes before. Notes for me never were this regular thing for me. Notes is such a crazy new thing for me. But so what happens was it turns around and gets captivating to me. As a separate thing to me. Notes, getting notes. It's like you might say these notes I was collecting, they were evolving into this thing which was evolving into its own kind of a thing non-relative to anything. Talk about notes. I'm telling you, if anybody wants to see tons of them, then they better come see me about it because I am the one with tons of them. But so how does this happen to come about? Does anybody have any idea of how this happens to come about? Because until we as a society can get to the bottom of this thing and start making some progress rooting it out or getting it rooted out, the human race will just go on being enslaved as a nation in bondage. Meanwhile, stay alert. Keep your guard up. The snare is everywhere. The only way for us as a people to come to terms with this is for you and other enlightened citizens to continue to see to it that you have kept yourselves informed, unclogged the lines of communication, and to have made wariness—wariness!—your watchword. Because it's first it's this thing and then it's next this next thing and then that's it—it's, you know, it's everything everywhere.
But a bird does not say to itself okay, here goes a feather, I am finished with this feather, I am getting rid of this feather. Because the man was prepared to believe no bird relieved itself of a feather in hopes the man would retrieve it. There was not a matter of mind to be inquired into. Although neither was it an accident, was it? Nothing was an accident. A scheme was bound to be bound up in it, whatever it was, somewhere. For example, hadn't the man once been in the company of a boy who said feder for feather? This is what the man pondered about, or pondered on, thinking ponderingly, "What's the deal?"
The man reasoned along this line, or bethought himself along this line of reasoning. For did it not stand to reason that not everyone in the present dispensation could report of himself his once having been in the company of a boy who said feder for feather? Wasn't there something going on in this somewhere, and couldn't you end up somewhere in it dying from it? There were hints, there were foretokenings—the proof was everywhere for anyone with the acumen to read the dread indications. There would be a disease conducted into the man from this relation he had conceived with the feathers. It would be a feather-borne disease, despite the care the man took never to handle a feather directly. No, no, this last, that last sentence, all wrong, it's all too wrong—wrought, wrought, it's all too wrong and wrought, diction thick with effort. I can't write this. It cannot be written.
But, oh, the thrill of them!
Feathers.
The abundance.
The very copia.
Now that the man had started noticing.
Mustn't it mean these birds were everywhere?
Or had been?
Although there were times when the man could go from the bottom of the city to the top of it and not spot the first feather. But around in front of the museum, this was where there were always to be found good pickings. On the other hand, the man could not always take himself to the museum, could he? It was not always convenient for the man to go to the museum. You did not get to the museum by going in the direction the man was mainly given to going in, which instead was the direction of the market.
The market.
Here was where the man got his groceries, earlier called to your attention by the noun staples.
And, oh, the cleaning materials!
Kaptain Kleeno, for instance.
The direction that took the man to the market, this was the direction the man was given to walking in, whereas the museum was opposite of this, and rather a longer walk by half. Forget it. I'm worn out with this. I'm disgusted with this. I am absolutely exhausted with this and am anyway stalled in my tracks with this. Mind is elsewhere. You know what it is to stand under a pediment? He did not know where the feathers came from. He did not care to know where it was on the body of the birds the feathers came from, or had come from. From wing, from tail, from under the gut, it all sickened the man. Expressions of life sickened the man. The man seemed excited as much for the thing they were known by as for the thing they were.
But how say which is which?—feather here, feather there. Feder. Later on in this it will be said to the man, someone will later on in this come to say to the man, "You feather your nest? This your game, you feather your nest?" Was the bleach killing him? The man was convinced the bleach could be killing him. Or the ammonia. Forget Kaptain Kleeno. Scratch Kaptain Kleeno. No one's buying it, no one's falling for it, something named by the name Kaptain Kleeno. But couldn't anything kill a person? Everything could kill a person. The least little thing could kill anybody—and would. This sentence, for instance. Even just the comma in it.
Ever think of collecting the names of soaps?
Palmolive?
Woodbury?
Camay?
Pears, Dove, Castile?
How could you say something wasn't killing you if it were doing it in increments too small for you to tell?
Isn't this why they say imperceptibly?
An ant might know, on the one hand, or a tortoise on the other.
But not a man.
Aren't there mites on feathers?
He soaked them in a solution of his making.
The man mixed ammonia and bleach and bleach and ammonia.
And Kaptain Kleeno.
Used the tweezers to deliver the day's gatherings to the basin where the purifications were done. It was a plastic basin, bought for the very thing, and disposed of and replaced every several days, for fear a swarm of undead mites might have come to congregate in it, having furiously replenished themselves in a crevice where dribs of moisture would coalesce into a natal soup too teensy to be detected without special optics.
I suppose you know where it was the man got his plastic basins from. Well, it was in that direction that the man so often pointed himself. Counter-museum-ward, that is. Ivory Soap, Lux Soap, Murphy's in a pinch. Not that results were not also to be had along the old wall along the way to either destination, a rumply mossy affair of mortar and stone declaring the great wilderness to its one side and the city to its other. Ah, the man had heard them in there, the rats in there. Had heard them jostling around in there, disturbing the loose earth with their wormy hairy tails. There were times when a wind could make the man weep. There were times when the man might have fallen to his knees in grief for the wind that had rushed forth from its lair and reached from him the feather he was about to take. The man never took a feather with his fingers. It was unthinkable, unthinkable! This was why the man was dying, wasn't it?
His precautions, the tweezers, the ablutions in the basin, didn't the man choose death from care over death from disease? Someone said something once. Hadn't someone once said something once? Liver fluke, a liver fluke, this is what the man thought he remembered someone once saying once—touch a feather with your finger and get a liver fluke. But what would it be, a liver fluke? The man stood over the basin with the magnifying glass and tweezers.
The fumes were impossible. That plural or singular? The feather lay bathing on the one side. It would be necessary to catch it by the spine and reverse it onto its other side. You call it rachis, I call it spine. The source for liver fluke, was it the same as that for "You feather your nest? This is your game, you feather your nest?" I can't stand this anymore. I am so totally fed up with this and with everything else evermore. Wait a minute, so wait a minute—so how come the man didn't write this in French? He is trying to break the habit. What if I leave the city? What if I just get everything I've got and just leave? The man did not know how they lost a feather—was it from sickness or from combat or age? There was once this time once when I was walked right up to by a robber once and I said to him the money take the money but can't I keep these? I keep them in a thing which used to have bits of matchbooks in it and when I get the top off to get another one in, they make a noise like shhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh. It's terrible, it's terrible—shhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh. How did it start? Does anyone know how it starts? Here's the thing—shhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh.
Yardley.
Tide.
Duz.
Era.
Dial.
Cheer.
Wisk.
Joy.
Dawn.
Oh yes, of course—"You feather your nest? This is your game, you feather your nest?"
Shhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh.
Cark, cark—what does cark mean?
Fella says everything in depth is horrible.
Fella says the sensibility that reaches out for the sense in things makes contact with the impossibility in them.
Yes, he was feathering it!
This was the whole idea of it—to feather it, to get it feathered, to make certain there were feathers in it.
Finland is a gaudy-feathered place.
Could I ask you a personal question?
Why am I sitting here making every excuse for you?
I used to think polio in Italy meant impetigo.
Or vice versa.
Ivory Scales.
Ivory Sleet.
Caress.
The man took to walking.
The man walked everywhere and took everything—the remains of matchbooks, the names of soaps—shhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh—notes, feathers.
Here's the thing.
Feder when I was a child.
You got the thing?
That's the thing.
Look no word in the eye.
Or the mouth.
Except pediment.
Except for pediment.
I'M SUING.
Who are you suing?
Wouldn't you like to know.
Are you suing me?
You'll find out.
I'm suing.
Who are you suing?
Somebody. People.
Which people?
Just people.
I'm suing.
Who are you suing?
Just some people.
Do I know them?
Ask me no questions, I'll tell you no lies.
I'm suing.
Who are you suing?
That's for me to know.
How come you can't tell me?
Oh, how come I can't tell you.
I'm suing.
Why are you suing?
Have to. No choice.
Can't you work it out?
Work what out?
What you're suing over.
Who told you I'm suing?
You did.
I said I'm suing?
Two seconds ago.
Well, I am. I'm suing.
So what about?
Things.
What things?
Things they did.
Irreparable things?
Intolerable things.
Think it over first.
I thought already.
Suing's a big step.
That's why I'm taking it.
You have a lawyer?
I'll get a lawyer.
You need a good lawyer.
I'll get a good lawyer.
They cost, you know.
I look like I just got off the boat?
Talk about bucks per hour, oh boy!
I look like I'm still wet behind the ears?
Guess what a lawyer gets.
I look like I'm just a babe in the woods?
Show me a lawyer on welfare.
I look like I haven't been around the block?
Just watch yourself, is all I'm saying.
I look like I was born yesterday?
Just watch your step.
You see me in diapers?
I'm just saying.
I'm suing.
Why do you want to sue?
Bring the bastards to their knees.
Which bastards?
Oh, wouldn't you like to know.
I'm suing.
Better watch it.
Watch what?
Suing somebody.
Why should I worry about suing somebody?
They could sue back.
They could sue back?
Countersue.
Countersue for what?
For suing.
People can do that?
Anybody can do that.
The bastards. The dirty rotten crummy bastards.
I'm suing.
Why sue? Mediate instead.
Mediate?
Come to terms.
What terms?
Give a little, take a little.
Don't sue?
Don't sue.
But there are issues involved.
Issues, shmissues.
It's people like you.
It's people like me what?
It's people like you.
It's people like me what?
You know.
I'm suing.
So you're suing.
I'm really going to sue.
It's your right.
I'm within my rights.
It's permitted under law.
It's the remedy under the law.
People can sue.
Oh, don't I know it.
So who's the defendant?
Can't discuss it.
You can't discuss it?
Can't discuss it.
But why'd you tell me in the first place?
Tell you what? Who told you anything?
You told me you're going to sue.
That's right. Can't wait, either.
You want my advice?
What's your advice?
Make a deal. Don't sue.
No deals. I don't make deals.
Think it over.
Thought it over plenty already.
Just promise me you'll think it over.
Justice, sweetheart, you never heard of justice?
Justice for who?
For the one in the right.
Who's that?
I'm that.
Are you suing me?
No comment.
Are you suing me?
My lips are sealed.
It's me you're suing, isn't it?
Does the shoe fit?
But why are you suing me?
Who said it's you?
Just don't forget, boyo.
Just don't forget what?
Two can play the same game.
What game is that?
The suing game.
I say I'm suing someone?
You think I can't take a hint?
Who hinted? I didn't hint.
So sue me if you're going to sue me.
What's the hurry? I'm in no hurry.
What about we talk it out?
I'm through with talking.
I can make concessions.
Name me a couple.
I could give ground.
Describe the ground.
There are areas.
I'm listening. Tell me areas.
I need time.
An honest person needs time?
Recoup, regroup. Think straight.
I'll settle for one area.
Would you take an apology?
It depends. I'll ask my lawyer.
I'm prepared to make steep concessions.
I like that. How steep?
You won't be sorry.
That's up to my lawyer.
Can't we keep the lawyers out of this?
Innocent people don't plead.
Be reasonable. I wasn't ready for this.
Ready for what?
For bringing a lawsuit.
You're suing? Who are you suing?
It's a countersuit.
You don't say.
They sue you, you sue them.
Tit for tat?
Tit for tat.
This is your last word in the matter?
You just heard it.
Which is it, tit or tat?
You see why everybody wants to sue you?
Who wants to sue me?
Everybody does.
For asking a question?
For irking people.
I just remembered.
What did you just remember?
Who I'm suing. I'm suing people.
What have people ever done to you?
Did I just go crazy?
What have people ever done to you?
Am I out of my mind?
What have people ever done to you?
Excuse me, but did I just now go out of my mind?
I'm only asking.
You want what? You want names and addresses?
I'll take a name. Also an address.
This is why I am suing you.
You're suing me?
Now you know why I'm suing you.
So sue me. I'm filing a countersuit.
Good.
We'll sue each other.
Good.
We'll sue one another.
Good.
This'll resolve it for good.
Good.
Are you mocking me?
You bastard. I'll fix you. I'll finish you.
You were always against me, weren't you?
You'll pay through the nose.
We'll see who pays.
Monkey see, monkey do.
You'll sing a different tune.
Oh, I'm trembling. See me tremble?
You'll all pay. Every last one of you.
Have you seen a doctor?
I can't wait. I just can't wait.
See a doctor.
Don't worry, we'll see who's crazy.
Consult a doctor. It's for the best.
You swine will stop at nothing.
I feel sorry for you.
Shame, for shame. How can you stand yourself?
You are really a very sick human being.
I'm sick, I'm sick. We'll see who's sick.
There but for the grace of God and so forth.
You give thanks? I give thanks.
This is a perfect example.
Example of what, example of what?
Don't you see yourself? Take a look at yourself.
Me? Take a look at me?
It's sad. It's really sad.
That's some joke, you saying sad.
You're confused, aren't you?
Who's confused? I'm supposed to be confused?
Good God, you don't know who's who or what's what.
Who doesn't know? I don't know?
All you can do is mimic me, can't you?
You're gaslighting me, aren't you?
You know the word nuts?
This is a gaslighting thing, isn't it?
Is that a movie reference, gaslighting?
You're trying to throw me off.
We worry for you. We're trying to help you.
That's so low. That's the lowest.
There's cause for concern.
You'd stoop to a saying.
I'm just saying.
You'd stoop to an alliteration.
Everyone's concerned.
You'd get down and wallow with a cliché.
We have your best interest at heart.
I could vomit from this.
Are you all right?
I could really throw up from this.
Do you want to sit down?
This is too much.
Lie down for a bit.
No dice.
Take some time out for a bit.
Nothing doing.
You can sue later.
I'm suing now.
Can't it wait?
What do you take me for?
Rest a while.
You take me for a fool, don't you?
Give things a chance to work themselves out.
Things worsen. Everything worsens.
Oh so true. But suing's not the answer.
It couldn't hurt. And I'll feel better.
That's what we want, isn't it?
Isn't what?
For you to feel better.
I'd like to feel better.
Of course you would.
I'd really like to.
And you shall, you shall.
You're humoring me.
Who's humoring you?
This is disgusting. People are disgusting.
Calm yourself.
I wouldn't give you the satisfaction.
Why make a mountain out of a molehill?
Filth.
Please.
You filth.
No need, there's no need.
I'll show you need.
Just hang on a little longer.
You want hang? I'll give you hang.
You're upset.
How dare you talk to me like this!
So sue us.
Us? Where's us?
Just a manner of speaking. Lie down.
Skip it.
Just for two seconds lie down.
Forget it.
Here. Lie here.
No.
You know you want to.
No.
Oh now, you know you do.
What for?
To feel better. To feel good.
I'd like to feel good.
Of course you would. Who wouldn't?
Just for a minute.
That's right.
I'm tired.
How could you not be?
I'm so tired.
We're all of us weary through and through.
Why is that?
It's tiring.